Duty to Rome
by Ranger of Ithilien
Summary: This is Galahad's story! His triumphs, his failures, this is his story in his duty to Rome. Chapter 5 is up! Galahad has a nightmare... could it come true? READ! Will be a romance in later chapters .
1. Default Chapter

**Disclaimer: Umm... I don't own anything!**

**Duty toRome **

"This one will do." The Roman soldier said gruffly, pointing towards me.

I was eight years old and today was the day that Rome came to Sarmatia to collect young boys that would be trained to become knights. I stood in front of my father, Bran, with his hands planted firmly on my shoulders. My mother, Rowena, stood next to my father, tears streaming down her pale cheeks. I was the second eldest child in our family, but I was the oldest son. I had two sisters and a brother.

"Get a horse." The Roman ordered to my father.

"You cannot do this! Please!" He begged, "He is too young!"

The Roman sighed, annoyed and came forward, taking my mother forcefully and holding a sword at her throat. All the tribe gasped. I tried going forward, but a Roman grabbed me, holding me tightly.

"He must come." The Roman spat who was holding my mother.

My father looked at me hesitatingly and I gave him a single nod. My father closed his eyes and looked down, a small tear escaping his eye, then finally, he gave his nod of consent. They let go of my mother and she ran and hugged me, crying, kissing my head, smoothing down my curly hair.

"Please, don't take my boy." She whispered.

Before long, my father came out slowly with our large white stallion, Don. I knew how to ride him, so easily I swung up into the saddle. Then my father handed me something, his sword.

"Galahad, when you return, you will be a great warrior of Sarmatia." He told me.

I nodded and he smoothed some hair out of my face, "Come home." He whispered, kissing my forehead.

My mother came and hugged, "Farewell, Gal." She sobbed, kissing my cheek.

She went back and my father put his arm around her. My older sister, Brenna, who was eleven walked up and took my hand, "Bye, brother."

I gave her a small smile and nodded.

My younger sister and brother were twins, Lavena and Robin, they were both two years younger than me. Robin ran up and looked up at me on Don.

"Bye, Gally." He muttered.

Lavena was crying, "Galahad, I don't want you to leave!"

I couldn't let any tears fall, not now, I had to be strong, "Nor me, but I have to."

"GAL! GALAHAD!" I heard a familiar yell.

I turned and saw my best friend, Tarian sprinting up to me. The wind was blowing her red hair in her face, but I could see that she was crying.

"Here." She said, reaching up and giving me something.

I opened my hand and looked at the carved wooden horse. I smiled, remembering how and when it was made. My eyes turned down to Tarian and I grinned, "Thank you."

"Come on!" A Roman bellowed from his own mount.

I took a deep breath, I couldn't- I wouldn't cry. Urging Dom over to the other boys. I noticed I was the youngest, all the others were definitely older than I was. I closed my eyes and shook my head, not believing it was happening to me. Don whinnied softly, bowing his head. I patted his neck and whispered a few words of comfort into his ears. He would take care of me.

I looked back at my tribe once more. They were all watching me, some crying, some looking relieved that their son was not chosen to go to Rome to serve as knights.

Suddenly, my father raised his fist and cried, "RUUUUUUUUSSSSSSSSSS!"

The rest of the tribe joined in. A wave of pride washed through me, but was soon gone when the Romans started leading on, towards Rome.

I heard someone trotting up next to me. Turning, I saw a boy, older than me, with long blond, scruffy hair. He gave me a small smile.

"I am Gawain, who are you?"

I sighed, "Galahad."

**Please review, but please be nice, its my first fanfic:) :)**


	2. 10 years later

Thank you for your comment Ms Genova! Glad you like my story so far, here is the next chappy:)

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing... etc, etc

Chapter 2

_10 years later…_

"Just think, five more years until we can have our discharge papers and get off this damned island." I muttered, smiling dreamily at the crackling fire in front of me.

Eight knights, Lancelot, Bors, Dagonet, Tristan, Kay, Gawain, Bedievere and myself was all that were left of the boys who left home ten long years ago. Many had been killed. Many. But surprisingly, not me. My best friend Gawain had taken it his duty to look after me, ever since his younger brother Gareth had been killed by woads, he had sworn he would never let me fall. Many. Our commander Arthur was a good man and courageous warrior, not like most of the Roman scum I had met. I was now eighteen years old, youngest of all the knights, Gawain was the second youngest, but he was five four years old than me.

We were yet on another mission: some woads had attacked a nearby village and they were in need of reinforcements.

I sat now, swigging on my cool water, prodding the fire with a stick. Tristan, our scout sat as he usually did, in silent, smoothing and feeding his hawk. Bors was snoring like a bear, with Dag kicking him whenever he got too loud. Bedievere and Kay were on watch, playing a small quiet game of dice. Lancelot was sharpening one of his twin swords lazily and Arthur was looking over a large map, with a look of frustration on his face. Gawain was next to me, talking quietly.

"Oh, come on Galahad, do you really think we will ever reach that. Freedom is a dream, a ghost, we will never have it, we are slaves." He told me, with a deep sigh.

I frowned, "Do you intent of dying anytime soon?"

Gawain glanced at me and snorted, but not replying. I sighed, standing and walking away to see Don. When he saw me, he shook his head and nudged my shoulder.

"Hey, boy." I said in greeting, scratching his head.

I opened a saddle bag and rummaged through it. I took out the wooden horse model and smoothed the nose of it lovingly. That was the only thing I had of home, that, Don and my sword. Leaning against a tree, I shrunk down, so I was sitting. I lifted my head and looked up at the forest canopy, wishing to see the stars.

The next morning, I was woken by Gawain. He cuffed the back of my head, dragging me from my peaceful sleep. Groggily, I rubbed the sleep from my eyes.

"Time to go, Pup." Gawain called, teasingly, with a smirk on his face.

I glared and got to my feet. I was never a morning person and today made no exception. I suddenly realised that I still had my wooden horse in my hand, grinning, I put it in my bags.

I whistled to Don and he obediently walked over and I mounted, "How long is it 'till we reach the village?" I inquired, yawning.

Tristan let his hawk fly off before answering me, "Half a day."

With that, he galloped off to scout.

Dag was still trying to get Bors up, but still he would just turn back over. Lancelot gave an exasperated sigh and walked over on his horse. Reaching into his saddle bag, he pulled out his water and poured half of it over the oldest knight's head.

"ARGH!" He roared, jolting up, "What the hell! That is not away to wake any man up in the bloody morning!"

I snorted and Dagonet pulled his best friend up, "Come on Bors." He said, giving him a kind hit on the back.

The ride went uneventfully through the forest and shockingly, no woads. Arthur led the way outside where we met Tristan. I rode next to Gawain as usual.

"Do you reckon there will be many woads?" I asked, curiously.

Kay looked at me, nodding, "Aye, I should think so, other wise they wouldn't have called for us, would they?"

I shrugged, "Aye, I suppose."

"Well," Bor started, "I'm just glad to get away from home for a bit, Van's mood swings are getting worse and worse."

I smiled, Vanora was Bors's lover and they already had seven bastard kids, with the eighth on the way.

"No wonder, if she has to live with you!" Bedievere shouted, jokingly, "Poor woman, hardly gets a moment's peace!"

Bors sniggered, "Well, Bed, I'm worth it!"

As soon as he said the last word, an arrow shot from a tree, embedding Lancelot's leg. The knight gasped and quickly pulled out the wooden shaft, wincing as he did so.

"WOADS!" Arthur yelled, drawing Excalibur and lifting it into the sky.

I unsheathed my sword and turned Don around to face where the arrow had just been shot from. Bors cried the Sarmatian cry as he always did, taking his daggers out. I glanced at Gawain, who looked ready and bloodthirsty. Non of the knights, except Tristan, liked killing. I most of all, killing was what I hated worst, but I did.

"Show yourselves, or are you cowards?" Kay bellowed, looking in every direction for a sign of the enemy.

All of a sudden, a loud battle cry and running of feet sounded from behind us. Turning my head, I saw them.

"Shit." Gawain muttered with a blank face.


	3. Thank you

Chapter 3

There were so many of them. All running at us like savage beasts, yet Arthur stood in front of us unwilling to retreat, Excalibur still raised high. Bedievere sat up straighter, holding his axe up and urging his horse forward to stand right next to Arthur. Lancelot pulled both of his sword's from the sheath on his back and kicked his ebony mount forward too. Soon, Gawain, Kay and Dagonet joined them and only Bors, I and strangely Tristan were left behind.

"Looks like we have to play archers." Bors laughed, taking his bow out and took three arrows in his hand.

Tristan smirked, glancing at me and taking his own bow up and notching four arrows. Taking a deep breath I followed my brother's actions and put three arrows on my bow. _For home, _I thought, and a warm feeling came up in my chest.

"RUUUUUUS!" All the knights bellowed as Bors, Tristan and I shot arrows from behind them and took down the front line of Woads.

Then we charged, screaming the Sarmatian war cry.

I swung my sword down, severing a man's head from his body and slitting another's throat. Blood spurted from all directions and screams and cries of death rang in my ears. I shot an arrow and hit a man in the back of neck as he went to attack Gawain. The blond man spun around and nodded in thanks to me, before throwing his axe as a man by Kay.

Suddenly I felt a huge impact against my side and I was tackled off my horse by a large Woad warrior. Don ran away, thinking I was still on his back, along with my shield. I had my sword tightly gripped in my hands as stared at the man in front of me, he was armed with a shield and a long sword. His head was bald, with blue tattoos swirling over it, like snakes. On his forehead, there was a full moon.

"Roman pig!" He bellowed, swinging at me with his sword.

I blocked it, just, with all my might pushing back. My arms shook from his strength and impact, but I held on, pushing his sword back. Managing to take one hand off the hilt of my sword, I gave the Woad a hard punch in the nose, hearing a loud painful crack, he jolted back, only to have an arrow stick through his neck and Tristan mounted on his horse behind, smirked, enjoying the feeling of blood. _Sick, _I thought with a grimace, _But he did save my life. _

Spinning around I saw an arrow whistling through the air. It all went in slow motion as I saw who it was aiming for…Bedievere. I yelled out as loud as possible and the knight didn't look at me, as he was too busy engaging in his own battle against two woads, until it hit him. Square in the chest. Shouting out, I ran to him, killing all the people in my path- for once not noticing the blood or the death- only Bedievere, who kept fighting, but I could tell he was fading.

I lunged forward and tackled the two woads he was fighting to the floor, punching one hard in the mouth and sliting the other's throat- pure angry flowed through me as I threw a knife at a man running at me. Bedievere killed his last woad, before sinking to the ground, breathing hard and painfully.

Rage flared in my eyes as I killed woads, slaughtering them like animals. I did that for along time, until the woads began retreating back from where they came. After killing a man, I dropped my sword and dropped to my knee's next to Bedievere. The young man's head was face down in the mud and I lifted it up and cradled it in my laps, moving some of his light brown hair from his bloody face.

His eyes opened to look at me and they glazed a bit, when he murmured, "Galahad," A trickle of crimson blood came from his mouth, and a ghostly smile played on his lips, "Thank you."

"Bedievere." I called in a shaky whisper and when no answer came I knew he was dead. Salty tears flowed down my cheeks as I wept for my fallen brother, holding him tightly. I heard people walking up behind me, and some gasps reached my echoing ears. Arthur came opposite, his bloody face striped with tears and he knelt down, staring at Bedievere's body.

"May he be at peace." He whispered.

I took a deep breath and Gawain put a firm hand on my shoulder, "Goodbye my friend," He whispered to Bed.

"Goodbye my brother." I added, placing my hand on his chest beside the arrow shaft that was sticking out, "Thank you too."


	4. Camp and chats

Chapter 3

I sat in silence later that night when we made camp, staring impassively into crackling campfire. Bedievere's body had been laid out at the side of camp, covered by a large black cloak. The whole camp was silent that knight, Bors and Dag were sitting quietly keeping watch, Bors still had tears falling from his eyes. Arthur sat alone under a particularly large oak tree, muttering a few words to his stupid God, his eyes were closed in deep concentration. Lancelot's eyes were miserable, as he gazed down at a rat or lion pendant that he had always kept close- I had never really seen it properly, he as he stroked the wooden animal I could sense that it meant something dearly to him. Kay sat on the log opposite me sharpening his sword, his black hair lay in sweaty clumps as he had been sharpening the blade for hours now. Kay was close to Bedievere and his death had hit the knight hard. Tristan sat opposite me, throwing small pieces of meat to his hawk, before continuing to clean one of his beloved daggers. Gawain sat next to me, as usual, to make sure I was alright, he was like that, I wouldn't know life if he was not there for me.

"Galahad," The blonde man broke the heavy silence, "Eat." he shoved a piece of dried meat in my face.

Nausea swept through my stomach as I stared at the food Gawain held. Scenes of the battle were still fresh in my mind as well as the death of Bedievere. Arthur looked up from his prayers and stared at me, tears evident in his round eyes, all swollen and red.

"I'm not hungry, Gawain." I murmured, throwing a piece of twig into the fire, watching it smoulder and burn in small black ashes.

The blonde man nodded slowly, putting the food away, "Maybe later then."

"He died an honourable death." Arthur announced, more to himself than to us, "He fought well today."

Kay stood, outraged, "Not well enough." He hissed, then strode away into the woodland.

Arthur made to go after him, but Lancelot put his hand on the Roman's shoulder to stop him, "Leave him be, for now anyway. He needs to be alone."

_Later that night_

Most of the knights were sleeping, Bors's loud snoring echoed through the camp, yet it was not that that kept me from slumber. I lay down against a large tree- a oak I think it was. In my palm I squeezed the wooden figure of the horse tightly, closing my eyes shut willing for them to stay shut, willing for them to dream of good things, of memories, of home. But whenever I managed to drift off, I was awaken by nightmares of fire, blood and screams.

"You've woken nearly five times." I heard the accented voice of Arthur's scout, Tristan, from his place by the fire keeping watch for more woads.

I sat up, wiping my forehead with the back of my sleeve, "I cannot stay in good dreams." Tristan didn't answer me, he was most likely thinking of things he liked- killing most probably. I went over and sat next to him, there was nothing better to do, "Why doesn't death scare you?" I asked, my face marring with a small frown.

"Why does it scare you?" He hissed back.

I breathed in, "I've got something to live for, Tristan."

"So you say."

I scowled at him, "I know you've never liked me, ever since I was chosen from my village, ever since I killed my first person. You think me a coward and for that you hate me-"

"Hate is different from not liking." He corrected, "Hate is strong, I don't hate you."

I was shocked, never in all my life here, had I heard Tristan say so much in a month! Let alone a sentence. A small smile played on my lips, before removing itself and my expression became once more serious, "I never thought life would be like this. So much death. So much darkness." I sighed, "Only five more years." I told him, before standing and going back to my place by the tree, my little horse still grasped in my hand.


	5. Nightmares

Ok, this is a really really quick update, and to thank all my lovely reviewers. **hands out cookies toyou all **

**homeric**- You're a gem, thanks for reminding me about the disclaimer. I'd forget my head if it wasn't attached to my body! Lol! Thanks for your review too, I felt very sorry for Bedievere too, these couples of chapters are going to be a little bit gloomy, but soon its going to get more happier for Galahad.

**Crazy.little.biatch**- Thanks, dear! Galahad it very sexy I think!

**Lucilla**- Yes, poor Bedievere. Thanks!

**Eshlyn Kar**- Yes poor Lancelot, but don't worry, he survived! Thanks I'm glad you like the story.

Right, thank you everyone else… I hope you enjoy your cookies! This is not my best chapter, but I just wanted to squeeze one in quickly today.

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own anything to do with King Arthur.

(If I did I would surely be a millionaire living in some rich, hot island with all the Sarmatian Knights as my personal slaves. )

Chapter 5

My eyes finally started to close, after what seemed like an eternity of nothingness, but now I felt myself starting to drift off…

_Fire. Blackness. People. That was all saw… Screaming. Wailing. Crying. That was all I could hear. Smoke. Blood. Death. That was all I could smell. I tried to run, but every time I took a step forward I was getting no where. I felt someone grabbing me by the leg and I yelled out for the Knights… Gawain. Arthur. Dagonet. Bors. Kay. Lancelot. And Bedievere. Risking, I took a look to who had my leg and I froze like a witch had put a spell on my own bones. Brenna. My sister. _

"_Galahad!" She screamed, her faced bloodied and dirty, her dress torn, "Galahad!" She screamed my name, over and over and the over and over once more. I stared at her. I moved to help her, but could not. A man with a long fair beard stalked over towards us, not taking a single glance my way. In his hand a crimson dripping sword . It lifted to the air, looming above Brenna. My eyes widened as the sword came down and my screams mingled with my sisters…_

"NO!" I yelled out, sitting upright, breathing hard, my face dripping with sweat, my whole body shaking. Someone was at my side, Gawain probably, his hand was on my shoulder, patting it, trying to keep me calm.

"It was a dream, Galahad, only a dream." His words were comforting, but it was not Gawain's voice… it was accented. Tristan?

Reality seemed to snap back to me and all the knights were crowded round, confused and concerned looks on their faces. Gawain came and knelt by the side of me, shaking his head.

Something felt wrong though. My hand, it was empty. The horse was gone.

My eyes turned darker and I eyed each of the knights dangerously, growling, "Who stole it?"

**Thanks, please review and tell me your thoughts on it and any good plots I could have in this story, I NEED IDEAS HELP! **

**Ranger xxx **


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